


25 kisses

by SelenicSoul83



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Shorts, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5797870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenicSoul83/pseuds/SelenicSoul83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 Newtmas kisses, based off a list I discovered in the depths of my tumblr favorites. Some will be happy, some will be sad. Apologies in advance. Mostly short and separate drabbles. I'm still finding out as I go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss on the ear

**Author's Note:**

> None of the different stories are related, unless otherwise specified.  
> Most will be AU, with possibly a few exceptions here and there.

“I can’t believe Newt told that story again.” Thomas put his hand to his forehead, embarrassed standing in front of his boyfriend’s parents like this.

“Told what story?”

Having heard his name called, Newt had bounced over to Thomas. He slung his arms over the other’s shoulders, leaning onto his back.

“Of how you two met,” his mother clarified, clasping her hands in delight. She loved seeing her son this happy.

Newt grinned. Thomas only groaned again.

“I like telling it,” Newt said. “Why don’t you?”

Thomas threw his hands up helplessly. “Because it’s embarrassing!” he exclaimed. “For the both of us.” Which only made it harder for him to understand why Newt insisted on bringing it up to whomever they met.

Newt shrugged, leaning into the other some more and pressing a soft kiss to his ear.

“Well, I don’t regret a minute of it,” he simply said.

Thomas blushed, and smiled. If put that way, he guessed he could get used to it after all.


	2. Kiss on the forehead

“This is exactly why I told ya to stay home to begin with.”

Thomas muttered something, avoiding looking up at Newt as well as he could.

Yes, Newt had been right. Yes, Thomas should’ve stayed in. But right now he just felt awful and wanted nothing more than to rest and hopefully sleep off this cold. He almost physically felt his fever go up another degree.

The bed gave in a bit where Newt sat down.

“You alright there, Tommy?” he asked, now more concerned then he’d sounded moments before.

Thomas nodded. “Thank you,” he mumbled from where he’d dug his face into the pillow.

Newt reached over, carefully brushing Thomas’s hair out of his face, and could feel sweat brimming his brow. Thomas welcomed the coolness the boy’s hand provided.

“You really scared me, ya know?”

Thomas had been unwell since that morning, yet had insisted on going to class despite Newt’s protest. Well, he had barely made it through one hour, before getting up too fast and all but fainting into Newt’s arms. He was dragged back to their dorm right after.

The boy rolled over onto his back, looking up at Newt looking down at him.

“And I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You were right, I was stupid. Anything else?”

Newt grinned. “I won’t argue that.” He leaned down, pressing a careful kiss to Thomas’s forehead. “Go to sleep,” he ordered, “so that bloody fever can come down.”

What Newt probably didn’t realize, was that he was the reason Thomas’s temperature just went up even more.


	3. Drunk/sloppy kiss

What did he do to deserve this? Newt was a good college boy, he attended (most of) his classes, did more than alright when exams came around, and even went to a couple of parties every now and again. He’d drunk but wouldn’t overdo it, never ended up with gaps in his memory or waking up in some stranger’s bed. So what _did_ he do to be called at three in the morning to go pick up his bloody roommate?

Luckily for him it wasn’t hard at all to find the place he’d been given directions to. Just follow the trail of drunk and stumbling college kids, which leads directly to the single most brightly lit house in the neighborhood.

Newt got out of his car and walked straight up to the front door, trying not to step into what he didn’t even want to know had been spilled out here. Go inside, get Thomas, go back home. That was the plan and he was sticking to it.

The inside of the house proved to be an even bigger mess than he could’ve imagined. Newt heard his name being called, but it was hard to figure out where from in this chaos. How had the police not shown up yet? Had all of the neighbors just been invited instead?

Seconds later someone clamped onto his arm.

“Newt, there you are!”

Minho dared to smile. His expression turned more apologetic in response to Newt’s scowl. “I’m sorry, but who else should I have called?”

Newt sighed. “You could’ve taken him home yourself,” he muttered.

Again Minho grinned. “Though I may not look like it, I’m in no condition to drive, theoretically.”

Oh, he did look like it. Newt just couldn’t care. The boy sighed again. “Where is he?” he asked.

Minho pointed up the stairs. “Last room on the right.”

 

Newt was sure he’d gone into the wrong room at first, because simply no one was there, until a couple of seconds later he heard the sound of a toilet flushing and a very disheveled Thomas came walking out of the ensuite bathroom.

“You did not just make a bloody mess out of these people’s toilet,” Newt wished aloud.

The range of emotions ghosting over Thomas’s face was interesting to watch. First came annoyance, because like hell is a party like this not going to be a bit messy; then came confusion, because ‘Newt?’; and last but nog least his face lit up and he smiled widely, because ‘Newt!’

“What are you doing here?” he asked while stumbling over to meet his friend halfway across the room.

“I’m here to pick up your drunk ass,” Newt answered, annoyed that his mess of a roommate still managed to look this upbeat.

Hardly able to stop swaying from side to side, Thomas stood in front of him, smiling. “You’re such a good friend,” he slurred.

Newt rolled his eyes. “Sure I am,” he mumbled. “Come on, let’s go.”

No matter how many times Thomas argued he could walk on his own just fine, Newt did not come here at three in the morning just to see his friend fall down the stairs. So he took Thomas’s arm and put it around his shoulders, holding him upright and steady as they descended into the ever lively hallway downstairs.

“I see you found our party boy.”

“Minho!” Thomas yelled too loud for how close he was to Newt’s ear. He was still being held onto. “Newt, did you see Minho already?”

“Yes, Tommy, he’s the one who called me over here.”

“He did?” Thomas thought for a moment, in which Newt started dragging him outside. “Minho’s such a good friend,” Thomas finally decided, a goofy smile on his face.

Newt couldn’t help but snicker at that. “Yeah, he sure is. Took good care of ya.”

They made their way over to Newt’s car, Thomas not being at his most cooperative.

Newt stopped in front of the passenger’s side, waiting for the other to let go, reach out, and open the door. When that didn’t happen, he frowned.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I can stand on my own,” Thomas admitted. “I need your help.”

Heaving a sigh, Newt placed Thomas with his back against the car and opened the door himself.

“Let’s get you seated,” he said as he grabbed Thomas’s arms to guide him by.

The boy only giggled.

“Glad you think this is funny,” Newt said. He looked up into the other’s eyes and regretted that action.

Thomas kept his gaze on Newt, appearing more sober than the blond would give him credit for.

“You’re a good friend,” Thomas said softly.

“Yeah, ya told me that already. Now, just bend your knees, Tommy, and you’ll fall right into-” His words didn’t seem to reach the other boy, who kept his eyes trained on Newt.

“Tommy, are you listening?”

“I’m sorry.”

Newt was about to ask him what he was even sorry for, but all thoughts of that left his mind as Thomas put his hand in Newt’s neck and leaned in. He nearly missed the other’s mouth, but gathered himself, and then Newt’s mind went in overdrive.

How did he fail to stop a drunk guy from kissing him? He couldn’t have been caught too off-guard. No, Newt knew why he couldn’t stop Thomas. Because he wanted this. Or, at the very least, he’d thought about it. Just never hoped either one of them would be wasted if it happened.

And although wasted, Thomas’s lips felt steady and unwavering against his own, his hands resting softly on either side of Newt’s face.

It took a moment for Newt to recover from the initial surprise and put his hand against Thomas’s chest. He gently pushed him away, looking down.

“Just sit down,” he said, voice just above a whisper. Thomas did.

He let the car door fall shut and walked over to the other side, waiting for a moment to collect himself before getting in.

Neither spoke for the five minute drive back to their dorm. Once there, Thomas made a point of walking on his own.

“I’ll go get ya some water,” Newt muttered, before stalking off.

Thomas had dropped into bed by the time Newt reentered the room. He’d barely remembered to take off his shoes, but couldn’t be bothered to change into pajamas.

Newt put the glass of water and an aspirin on the bedside table. “You’ll need it when you wake up.” With that he went to get back into his own bed.

“Newt.”

The boy turned around, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re drunk. Just go to sleep.”

“No. I’m not _that_ drunk, Newt.” Thomas’s words still sounded slurred, but his voice was firm.

Newt stared at him, and Thomas started right back. A blush rose to his cheeks.

“Just go to bed,” Newt repeated. “I’m too tired for this.” He rubbed his eyes for emphasis. As Thomas looked like he was about to protest, he added, “We’ll talk tomorrow, ‘right?”

Thomas nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Right. Goodnight, Newt.”

The boy forced a tired smile. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like drunk Thomas. I really do. And intoxicated Minho.  
> Also this was probably the longest one you're gonna find here.


	4. Jealous kiss

He doesn’t know him. How doesn’t he know the guy Newt’s being all friendly with? Thomas did not arrive at this party just to see his boyfriend being chatted up by some tall, dark, and handsome stranger. (Because he has to hand it to the guy; he _is_ good-looking.)

He has been staring. Thomas realizes this as said stranger points cautiously over Newt’s shoulder, making the blond turn around.

“Thomas!” A smile spreads over Newt’s face as he calls him over. “I didn’t know you’d gotten here already.”

“Only just now,” he says dismissively. “Where’s the birthday boy?”

Newt looks around for a moment, but fails to find Minho.

“I think he went into the kitchen,” the stranger interjects.

“It would make sense that he’s wherever the food is,” says Newt.

Thomas doesn’t like how the man laughs along.

“I’m Alby, by the way.” Alby holds out his hand, which Thomas shakes as he introduces himself with a slightly forced smile.

Alby softly punches Newt’s arm. “So this is ‘Tommy’?” he asks with a grin.

How does this guy know about him? What exactly has Newt told him? And Thomas still doesn’t have a clue what this guy even is to Newt.

He doesn’t get to ask before Alby says he’s going to get something to drink.

“You guys want anything?”

They shake their heads, watching him disappear into the kitchen. Thomas sees a blur of Minho, but right now he’d prefer to talk to Newt.

“Alby’s… nice,” Thomas says.

Newt nods, smiling. “He is.” He looks at Thomas, holding his questioning gaze and can’t keep himself from chuckling.

“You’re gonna make me ask?”

Thomas is sounding desperate. Again, the other nods, though he pretends to have no idea what the boy’s talking about.

Thomas sighs. “Who is he, exactly?”

“Alby’s an old friend of ours.”

“You and Minho?”

Newt nods.

“So how come I’ve never met him before?”

Thomas is sure he’s been hanging out with Minho, and dating Newt, long enough to at least have heard of these friends.

Newt looks indecisive, but can’t stand Thomas’s staring much longer. “He’s also my ex.” The words come out rushed.

“Oh,” is all Thomas says.

Newt bites his lip. “And now you’re jealous.”

Thomas isn’t sure whether to be more impressed with Newt’s apparent poor image of him, or with how well the boy knows him.

“I’m not jealous.” Thomas doesn’t even believe his own words. Then: “How long ago are we talking?”

“Tommy-”

“And it seems you’ve told him more about me than the other way around. Which is fine, I mean-”

“Minho did,” Newt interrupts him.

Thomas raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Minho told him about you,” the boy clarifies. “He also asked me if it was alright for him to invite Alby. I said yes, because I thought you’d be fine with it.”

Thomas doesn’t answer, just stares down at his shoes. He digs his toes into the carpet.

“I am fine with it,” he mutters.

Newt’s hand slips into his, making him look up.

“Are ya? Really?” Newt pushes.

He sighs, rolls his eyes, sees Alby walking out of the kitchen and back towards them. He’ll regret this later. Newt will make him. But right that instant, all Thomas can do is listen to his brain telling him to kiss his boyfriend as he pulls him closer by their linked hands. It’s clumsy and he clearly startled the other, but then Newt’s free hand automatically comes to rest on Thomas’s side, as Thomas cups Newt’s cheek.

Because making out at your friend’s place on said friend’s birthday is probably considered highly inappropriate, the kiss doesn’t last long. When they break apart, Thomas is momentarily terrified for Newt’s reaction. Luckily, he’s smiling. Or rather, he’s smirking.

“You know you’re _never_ going to live down the moment you jealously kissed me in front of my ex, right?”

Thomas glances over to find Alby with a similar smirk on his face and Minho all but tumbled over with laughter.

He looks back at Newt, pecking him on the lips once more. He decides that that’s worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I liked writing drunk!Thomas, I struggled with jealous!Thomas. Oh well.


	5. Kiss on the back

They forgot to close the blinds. The sun hits Thomas in the face, and he’s finding it less than pleasant. He doesn’t even want to check the time, in denial of being forced awake like this on a Sunday morning. They went to bed far too late to be up before noon.

Lying on his stomach, he buries his face into the pillow. Maybe he’ll fall back asleep.

Next to him, Newt stirs awake.

Newt doesn’t mind the light streaming in. Rather enjoys it, really. But he knows Thomas is going to be bothered by it. He hears the other groan, confirming that the man’s already awake.

Newt reaches his arm out to him, letting his fingers dance over Thomas’s exposed back.

“Good morning,” he says.

Thomas only grumbles in reply.

“What’s that?” Newt asks softly, with a trace of laughter in his voice.

“You forgot the blinds,” Thomas accuses him next, still sounding groggy after waking up.

Instead of answering, Newt leans in closer, pressing fleeting kisses to Thomas’s back. He senses his boyfriend chuckle at that.

“I’m pretty sure _you_ forgot,” Newt mumbles against his skin.

Thomas fails to suppress the shudder running through his spine. He turns his head to look at Newt.

“Let’s just say we were both preoccupied last night.”

Newt smiles. “Let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like sleepy kisses...


	6. Kiss on the nose

“You’re lookin’ ridiculous.”

“Well, I- I just-”

“Didn’t expect me to say yes?”

Thomas nods. That’s exactly what he didn’t expect when he decided to finally ask Newt out on a date. His brain had even lagged behind, still processing that exact thought the moment he ran into the boy in the hallway. Thomas was just going to say hello. There had been no planning ahead. The question had simply popped up, seemed like a good idea.

“So, where are ya takin’ me?”

Thomas really should’ve thought this thing through before he cornered the other on his way to class.

“Tommy? You still in there?”

He shakes his head shortly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles.

Newt smirks. He leans in closer to Thomas, who stands surprised and rigid in front of him, then pecks the tip of his nose.

“Just call me when ya make up your mind, alright?” And then he walks away.

Thomas is going to _have_ to come up with something now. Something good.


End file.
